


punch drunk

by envysparkler



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemy to Caretaker, Gen, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Sleep Deprivation, Whump, dick and jason have an actual conversation about their relationship pre jason's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler
Summary: “Oh, Little Wing, you have no idea how much I hated you.”
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 82
Kudos: 1019





	punch drunk

**Author's Note:**

> This idea gnawed at my fingers and refused to let me go until I typed it all out in one go.

It was late by the time he got back to his apartment. Late, or early, he wasn’t sure. His head was spinning and he barely managed to get out of his suit and into some sweatpants before his hands started shaking and he collapsed inelegantly on his couch.

He probably had a few broken ribs. His chest felt like fire with every breath. His head hurt, and he didn’t know if it was the sleep deprivation or the crash through the wall or the dehydration. There was a water bottle on the coffee table and it felt like it was on the other side of the world.

It was just too much. Everything was too much. This apartment, after the disaster of what had happened to his previous one back in Bludhaven. Jason, back from the dead. Tim, hurt by his brothers twice over. Damian, Bruce’s biological son and a trained assassin, crawling out of the woodwork. Dick was smack-dab in the middle of a family train wreck and the only concession he could make to his sanity was refusing to spend the night in the Manor.

Patrol. Back to his apartment. Heading to the Manor after lunch and attempting to mediate the dumpster fire of interpersonal relationships while avoiding Bruce as much as possible. Heading back out on patrol.

Of course, it wasn’t really a concession to his sanity, because he’d lost that a long time ago.

The floor creaked before the red helmet came into view, and Dick sighed. This again. He was supposed to get some _sleep_ and his brain wasn’t letting him turn it off.

“What do you want?” Dick groaned, flopping back and regarding Jason’s helmet upside-down.

There was a beat of silence. “I have to say,” the distorted voice said, “That was not the welcome I was expecting.”

“I want to _sleep_ ,” Dick stressed, “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

That was a lie. Dick knew why he was there. Dick knew why he always showed up when Dick was hovering on the edge of burning out.

“You’re one to talk,” Dick said in response to the silence, “You _hate_ Bruce. You haven’t been to the Manor once since you came back.”

There was a soft click and when Jason came back into view, the helmet was gone. He was frowning. “I don’t know where this conversation is going.”

“I don’t even know why,” Dick muttered, slouching further into the couch, “You got it all. You were the son he _wanted_.”

There was a choked, cut-off sound.

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“Oh, like you don’t know,” Dick snorted, “He adopted you two months after you showed up. Me? I was just his ward, the Robin he needed as a partner until he cast me aside and dressed you in my colors. He didn’t know how to deal with me. But you? You were _perfect_.”

“I feel like we’re talking about two very different things here, Dickie.”

“Oh, Jaybird,” Dick sighed, “Please don’t. You were there. You saw how much we fought. He practically threw me out of the house because I wouldn’t listen to him.”

“Really? Because every goddamn time I put on that suit, I was held up to your standards, Golden Boy, and I always managed to fall short.”

“I’m not talking about Robin,” Dick gave him a narrow-eyed glare. Jason’s face went blank. “I’m talking about being his _son_. You loved school. You wanted to go to college. Your favorite thing to do was read. I had to fight for every single scrap of affection Bruce would ever allow himself to show, and he opened up to you like he was never an emotionally stunted bastard.”

Jason arched a slow eyebrow, as if to say _‘you sure about that?’_.

“Of course he’s back to being emotionally repressed,” Dick scowled, “You _died_. You don’t know – it fucking _broke_ him, Jaybird. He nearly punched me when I confronted him. He almost tore this city apart.” Dick shook his head, raising an arm to cover his eyes and block out whatever expression Jason was making. “Tim got next to nothing, bare scraps from the detective robot in charge, but of course Tim didn’t care because his parents are next to useless, and now there’s _another_ one, and I can’t fucking parent everyone in this family!”

He’d tried. He’d tried so hard with Tim, to make up for all the ways he’d failed with Jason. He’d entered an uneasy détente with Bruce as he attempted to mentor Tim, far more than the big brother role he should’ve taken.

“Oookay. I think you need to calm down, Dickface.”

“Calm down,” Dick repeated with a mirthless laugh, “Because I need to keep everyone happy. Because if I don’t, no one will. Because you want to kill us all, because Tim is too attached to the mission to think about anything else, because Damian wants to take control of this city, because Bruce doesn’t know how to deal with emotions without making everything ten times worse.”

There was some slow shuffling. “Then leave,” Jason said abruptly.

“What?”

“Leave, Dickhead. No one’s keeping you here. You already ran away from Bruce once – made your own team, took over your own city, built your own life. Leave.”

He could. He could just _go_. He could run, far and wide.

But he couldn’t. Because he had no other family in the world.

Dick bit down a choked sob and lowered his arm. Jason was glaring down at him.

“You clearly don’t want to be here,” Jason shrugged, “And the whole ‘perfect big brother’ thing is an act, because you never brought it out when I was around.” Dick made a wordless sound of protest, and Jason’s eyes sharpened. “Going to tell me I’m lying, Dickface?” he asked, an edge to his tone, “Going to pretend like we were best buds growing up, like you didn’t hate me the moment you laid eyes on me, like you didn’t turn your whole team against me, like you even bothered showing up to my funeral?”

Jason was angry now, his eyes almost glowing green as he hissed, “You don’t get points for switching up your act after I died, Dickhead, because that means _jack shit_ to me. You weren’t the perfect big brother, and I was just collateral damage in your ongoing war with Bruce. You don’t get to care more when I was dead than when I was alive, you asshole.”

Dick hadn’t – he had been looking forward to a little brother when Bruce had told him. Had imagined having someone to commiserate with, an ally against their constantly overbearing father. And then he’d come home, and gone to the Cave, and there was another boy in the suit his parents made him.

“Oh, Little Wing, you have no idea how much I hated you.”

Jason jerked back in shock. Dick smiled up at him, mirthless and brittle. “I wanted a little brother,” he said quietly, “And you took my suit. You took my name. _You took my father_. And it was like no one even noticed.”

“The perfect, golden Dick Grayson has _self-esteem issues_ –”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Jason, surprisingly, fell silent.

“None of it mattered,” Dick said, his gaze sliding off of Jason’s face, “Because you died.”

“And that’s what everything comes back to,” Jason muttered.

“You don’t know what it was like,” Dick hissed.

“Yeah, asshole, because I was _dead_ –”

“You were dead, Jaybird. You didn’t have to live in the world you left behind. You didn’t have to watch your father nearly destroy himself in an attempt to join you in your grave. You didn’t have to struggle to keep your family afloat as they floundered under their grief. You didn’t have to wonder – if you’d said something different, if you’d done something different, if you weren’t such a _jealous prick_ , then maybe your little brother would’ve come to _you_ , and maybe he’d _still be alive_ and –”

Dick choked and pressed his hands to his eyes in a futile attempt to stem the flow of tears. “I know it’s not fair, Little Wing,” Dick rasped softly, his voice cracking, “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Jason snapped back.

“No,” Dick said wearily, “It isn’t.”

“Glad we cleared that point up then,” Jason said sardonically, shuffling out of view.

“I just want you to come home,” Dick confessed, “And yes, it’s slightly because I want to make up for how I failed you in the past, and yes, it’s definitely because Bruce was happiest when you were alive and your absence is still tearing the family apart, but Jay, I want you to come home because it’s _your home_. You deserve to come back. You deserve to be safe and happy again. You being alive is a miracle, and you deserve to enjoy your second chance.”

His chest was still throbbing, a dull, spiking heat, and his headache had gotten worse. Dick mournfully eyed the water bottle on the coffee table before sighing.

“Ugh, you’re _impossible_ ,” Jason snarled, grabbing the water bottle and throwing it at Dick, considerately avoiding the giant bruise on his chest.

Dick caught it automatically, and almost twisted the cap off before the movements caught up to his brain. He stared at Jason, who was glaring at him from the other side of the coffee table, arms crossed, helmet and mask off but armor still on – and the blood drained from his face.

“You’re here,” Dick said, his fingers trembling. There was a roaring in his ears as he bolted upright, ignoring the spike of pain slamming into his chest and the vicious throbbing in the back of his head. “You’re actually here.”

Jason lifted an eyebrow, “I’ve been here for the last ten minutes, Dickface.”

Dick swayed where he was sitting, water bottle forgotten as a giant hand reached into his chest and _squeezed_. “You’re real,” he said, his words doing a poor job of conveying his horror, “You’re – you’ve been here this whole time.”

Jason raised the other eyebrow, “Who did you think you were having this conversation with?”

“Not – not you –” He thought – hallucination – strange dream – it hadn’t been the first time Jason had shown up in the corner of his eyes, always so angry, always ready to shove his failures in Dick’s face – he had never – he had – oh, gods, _what had he said_? “I didn’t – you – I swear, Jay, I didn’t mean –”

“Didn’t mean what you said?” Jason huffed out an unamused chuckle, his face growing dark, “Are you _sure_ about that, Dickie?”

“I didn’t mean to say it to _you_ ,” Dick nearly wailed.

“You were talking to me,” Jason pointed out, “Unless you call someone _else_ Jaybird.”

Dick couldn’t process the edge in Jason’s tone, but it certainly registered. “I didn’t know you were actually here,” Dick said, his voice wavering. His fingers were trembling so hard they were nearly vibrating. “I didn’t – _fuck_ – Jay, I’m so sorry –”

“No, Dickiebird, it was a good talk. Got a lot of stuff off our minds.”

No, no, _no_ – what had he said – he told Jason he _hated_ him – he threw the fact that he was dead back in his face – he yelled at him – he poured out all his bitterness and jealousy and –

“Fuck, no – Jay – I’m sorry, please –” He was going to leave, he was going to walk out, Dick had screwed it all up so badly that there was nothing he could ever do to repair this – Jason was going to disappear and it was all his fault – “I didn’t mean to say it, I didn’t know you were here, I _swear_ –”

There was no air in the room. Everything had gone blurry and no matter how many breaths he sucked in, his lungs were still burning and his heart was thundering so badly it was about to burst out of his ribcage.

“Right, you were – what? Talking to my ghost?”

“Jay, I’m so, _so_ sorry,” Dick’s voice cracked, “Please don’t – I didn’t mean to say any of that to you, I swear it, Little Wing, _please_ –”

It was ruined. It was ruined beyond repair and Dick had just burnt the bridge down to cinders. Bruce was never going to get Jason back and it was all on Dick, another one of his mistakes, another failure to keep his family together, Jason had _died_ and Dick had gotten a second chance and he’d messed that one up too and he was never going to get a third –

“Okay, you need to breathe. Dick? Dick, you’re having a panic attack. You need to breathe.”

Dick couldn’t breathe, because there was no air in the room, there was only a dizzy blur and choked gasps and the fire burning in his chest and hands curling around his shoulders. Someone grabbed his hand and pressed it against something flat, a beat pulsing against his fingers as the surface raised and lowered – there was a low curse –

He was twisted into a hold, arms bracketing him, and ordinarily that would be cause for alarm but Dick was still stuck on the fact that he’d just rambled to Jason about all his still-bitter issues and Jason was going to take this as proof that they’d all been lying when they wanted him back – he was going to take this as manipulation, as betrayal, and the last time Jason thought someone betrayed him, he went half across the world and _died_ –

“ _Breathe_ , Dick,” a voice growled into his ear, and there was a weight bearing down on his chest. Dick choked as the pressure grew painful, but it released and he sucked in a breath. Too fast. Too shallow.

“Slower,” the voice admonished, “Follow my beat.” Dick realized his face was pressed against body armor, the surface expanded and contracting in a regular rhythm. He tried his best to match to it, but the inhale and exhale did nothing to get rid of the sick churning in his stomach, the awful feeling that he’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed, the dread and terror and sickening panic that it was too late.

“I’m sorry,” Dick croaked out, “I’m so sorry. Please don’t go.” No number of apologies would ever be enough, but he had to try because he couldn’t do anything else.

“I’m right here, Dickiebird.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Dick tried, even though he knew it wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t know the words to make Jason stay. “I’m sorry, please don’t – just ignore everything I said, Jason, _please_ ,” Dick begged, in the vain hope that if he pleaded hard enough, Jason’s memory of the past ten minutes would disappear. “Please, _please_ – Jaybird, I’m so sorry, I swear I wouldn’t have said it if I knew you were really there – I’m sorry – hate me all you want, Jay, but please don’t take it out on the others, _please_ , they didn’t know – they don’t deserve – I’m so sorry for ruining everything, Little Wing, I never meant – I don’t – Jason –”

A hand clamped over his mouth, stemming his disjointed rambling, and Dick shuddered, bowing his head and letting the tears drip down his face. Jason was here, a hard line of warmth around him, and Dick knew he had only these final few seconds left to be with his brother.

It hurt. It hurt so much. It tore at him – and there was absolutely no way that this wasn’t, one hundred percent, his own fault. There was no one else to blame here. It was only Dick. He could yell at Bruce and his emotional repression all he wanted, but even _he_ hadn’t messed up the way Dick had.

“You need sleep,” Jason said finally, “And water. And food. But probably sleep first.”

Dick’s breath hitched as he cried, leaning against his little brother in a way he’d never gotten to do before, and he’d never get to do again.

“Dick?” Jason asked quietly, uncurling his fingers from Dick’s mouth.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Dick sobbed, waiting for Jason to wrench away from him, to tear Dick’s fingers off of his jacket, to dump Dick onto the floor as he walked away. “Please don’t hold it against them, Jaybird, _please_ –”

Jason’s hand came back.

“Okay, Dickiebird,” Jason murmured, “You’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen _carefully_ , okay?”

Dick gave a shaky nod, Jason’s fingers still clamped over his mouth.

“Alright,” Jason exhaled, “I’m not mad.”

Dick made a soft, inquiring sound.

“I’m not mad at the things you said,” Jason said softly, “Do you understand?”

Dick nodded, fresh tears pooling at the corners of his eyes because if Jason wasn’t mad, then it was even _worse_ – Jason’s anger could be reasoned with, could be talked down, could find an outlet, even if it was using Dick as a punching bag, but if he wasn’t angry, then Dick had no idea what to do.

Jason cursed, low and frustrated. “No, Dick, I’m not – I’m not leaving. I swear I’m not upset at you. I realized that something was wrong at the start – I thought you were drunk, or something –”

“Not drunk,” Dick mumbled, because if he’d been inebriated, that was at least an excuse, an outside influence to explain how he hadn’t realized that Jason was actually there.

“No,” Jason huffed, “Just sleep-deprived and punch-drunk.”

But those were Dick’s mistakes too – he should’ve gotten more sleep, he should’ve been better on patrol, he should’ve –

“ _I’m not upset with you_ ,” Jason repeated, his voice low, “Do you understand?”

No. He didn’t. He didn’t nod, because that was a lie, and he didn’t need to compound this night with _lying_ , but neither did he shake his head.

“Okay,” Jason exhaled slowly, “You really need sleep.”

Like Dick was going to get any sleep after this. Like this conversation wasn’t going to replay in his head, over and over and _over_ as he analyzed it, as he tried to rewrite it, as he picked out every single point where he said the wrong thing.

“Oh, Dickie,” Jason sighed, “I’m – I’m relieved, actually. That I finally got an honest conversation out of you. That you didn’t just – that my memories weren’t a lie. That you admitted you were an asshole.”

Dick raised his head at that, breaking Jason’s grip to look him in the eye. Jason…wasn’t glaring. His eyes weren’t flickering an unnatural green. He met Dick’s gaze, tired lines on his face, less guarded than Dick had ever seen since he’d come back.

“I was,” Dick said quietly, “I was a horrible brother to you, I used you in my arguments with Bruce, I treated you terribly, I was –”

“Nope,” Jason said, clamping Dick’s mouth shut again, “I said I was happy I got the truth, I didn’t say I wanted groveling.”

“I’m sorry,” Dick said, muffled, “For – for everything.”

“You’ve apologized at least a hundred times already, Dickie. You need sleep.”

“Can’t,” Dick murmured, dropping his head until it was resting on Jason’s armor, right above his heart. He was still jittery, dread churning in his stomach and panic skittering through his veins.

Jason sighed again, loud and put-upon, and twisted – unearthing himself and toppling Dick back onto the couch in one smooth move. Dick made a sharp, pained sound, but stayed where he was, curling up and choking down the sobs so that his tears dripped soundlessly off his face.

He was going to hear Jason leave, he didn’t need to watch him go too. Didn’t need to see the back of his jacket as he slid out the window, didn’t need to watch him disappear in the distance with the certainty that he would never see him again, didn’t need to –

Arms curled around him again, shifting him up until he was pulled into a warm embrace – body armor and a leather jacket replaced with a soft shirt and sweatpants and Dick didn’t understand –

“You need to sleep,” Jason murmured, carrying him easily and Dick cracked his eyes open to see them entering his bedroom. He didn’t – what was –

Dick was deposited on the bed, and warm hands tugged the sheets up, pulling him back against a hard line, bracketing him, fingers carding through his hair.

“Sleep,” Jason said quietly, “Everything will feel better when you wake up.”

Dick made a low, mournful sound, because that _wasn’t true_ , and shivered, nudging further into Jason’s arms. “Don’t go,” he whispered, “Please.”

“I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Dick didn’t know if that was true – didn’t know if Jason was lying, if he was waiting for Dick to fall asleep to steal away into the night, if he was going to wake up to see his little brother gone forever, if he –

Dick didn’t know, but fingers tugged gently at his hair and everything was warm and he was so _tired_ and he didn’t even remember closing his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Jason makes them breakfast. Dick stares at Jason like he's going to disappear if he looks away, so Jason makes the executive decision that they're going to have a brotherly bonding day and watch a bunch of movies and ignore everything and everyone in the Manor.


End file.
